The World is But a Glass Globe
by bellatrix-la-dumb
Summary: He never noticed how broken his brother was. He never was there in the moments where Dean shattered like glass shards, when he used his own blood to glue the peices back together again. He never saw just how deep and dark his sorrows carved out his soul, how the heavy burdens he carried cracked his bones. He never knew he would lose him. One-shot. Warnings inside.


**Hello everyone! I know that if you follow me you are probably surprised that I actually wrote this. I am surprised too. I never thought that I would write a Supernatural fanfiction. But here I am! I just was watching the episode _My Bloody Valentine_ , and I was really inspired by the whole 'Dean is already dead inside' thing. If you know me, you know I live in the darkest pits of hell and absolutely love writing about the most messed up, depressing things. So, get ready for a shit ton of angst. I don't know if this story is any good, because there are a _ton_ of amazing Supernatural fanfictions out there. I have been reading a ton recently, and if you are looking for some really good, really angsty Spn stories, you should check out my favorites, because there are a lot of amazing stories that deserve to be read in there. **

**Warning: heavy mentions of suicide.**

"No."

The word was stuck on his tongue.

"No. No. This can't be possible."

Cas stared back at him, feint concern mixed with empathy barely shadowing his features. He didn't understand loss. He didn't understand losing last hope that you had left, clutched tightly between your fingers because that was all that was holding you to the Earth.

He didn't understand the absolute and utter desecration Sam was going through at that moment.

He had just left to go to the store, pick up some food for them. They were running low. He had just gotten back, having been concerned when Dean hadn't emerged from his room to snatch up the pie that Sam had again forgotten to get. He had just gone into Dean's room to check on him, but his bathroom was open...

Cas was there in a second. The rustling of wings was barely heard over Sam's previously solid world crumbling into dust. Maybe Cas could feel the shock wave from miles away, following the sorrow like a beacon to this very room. He asked Sam what was wrong, following his gaze to the open bathroom door when Sam didn't even acknowledge his presence. He didn't show any recognition of sadness, of shock, of anything. He just looked back to Sam with a sigh and put a hand on his shoulder in false comfort.

This couldn't be happening. Everything was fine. Everything was perfect. They had finally gotten everything back to normal. They had gotten rid of the Mark of Cain, stopped Metatron, killed Crowley, recaptured the Darkness. And they were both okay. Okay. They had settled back into normal lives, hunting normal monsters, doing normal cases. Nothing had been wrong. Everything was balanced in a way that it hadn't been since long before they were born. And everything was fine.

So how on Earth did they end up here?

Sam doesn't move. Doesn't breath. Doesn't think. He can't. He can't when his anchor has been ripped out from under him. Now he is floating. Up up up. Away, far from the world and all the chaos. The air is too thin to breath here. The light doesn't reach here. The icy ink of empty space freezes him to the bone. He is alone.

Again. Alone _again_. With no one but the angel beside him that is squeezing his shoulder too tight. Everyone is gone now. Everyone, starting with Jess, who seems like she is from a different life he never lived. Then Dad, who sacrificed himself for his sons he tried so hard to love, and his wife he lost because of them. Jo. Ellen. Adam. Bobby. Kevin. Charlie. And now...

Castiel finds something on the night stand. A piece of paper, placed blatantly so anyone could find it easily. He glances over it, frowning when he finishes, handing it to Sam. He snatches it up, reading over the penned scrawl as carefully as he can with the panic running through his veins.

 _Hey, I know it's cliché to write a note for this, but I feel like I can't leave these things out. I couldn't say this to your face. You are smart. You would have figured it out immediately and stopped me. What I want you to know is that I didn't want you to stop me. I did this on my own choice, Sam. I was tired, Sam. I was done. I have been for a very long time. The only reason I stayed was to fix all the messes I made. And look, we sure did it! I don't think it can get any worse than the freakin Darkness. But now that I know that I am not in debt to the whole world anymore, I am done here. Sammy, I know you aren't going to like it. I wouldn't like it if you did this. But I would understand. Just put yourself in my shoes. All you need to do is understand everything that I have went through. Maybe you will get why I had to do this. Because I really had to. I just want to be free, Sam. I want to be at peace for once. So please, I beg of you, do not do some magic mumbo jumbo to bring me back. Just leave me be. I will be fine. I know you will be fine too. You are the strongest person I know. Now that I am not there to boss you around, why don't you go live the life you always wanted. Don't let me hold you back, seriously. Just be happy. That is all I want._

Sam can't help but notice the smudged tear stains on the paper as he crumples it in his fist and throws it at the wall. He screams, inside his chest, trapped within his rib cage. He can't escape his own body enough to react properly. Everything just forces it's way out through silent tears that tread furrows down his cheeks as he remembers their conversation from earlier today.

 _"Oh, hey. I'm going to stop by the store to pick up a few things. You want anything?" Sam asked as he was walking to the door, the Impala's keys in hand._

 _"Uh, nah. I can't think of anything." Dean was sitting in the library at the end of one of the long tables, working on his computer silently, like he had been all day._

 _"Okay," Sam replied unsurely, surprised that Dean hadn't asked for beer or pie or something. He went to the door, opening it and stepping out, stopping when Dean called out to him._

 _"What?" Sam asked, turning back, not having heard what he said._

 _"Bye," Dean said, finally looking up at him from his computer, his gaze lingering, a stiff smile on his face._

 _"Uh, okay. See you later." Sam almost missed the grimace that came over Deans face at the words, gone so quick and covered up with a wave goodbye. He brushed it off and closed the door behind him._

That was the last time he talked to him. Those where their last words to each other.

At least he got to say goodbye.

But he never expected to see him like this.

Out of all the times he has died, he always came back. It was never his own fault. Always a demon or a monster or an angel. He never said anything about how he felt or how he was doing. He bottled it up in beer bottles, littered the streets they drove with them. They left trails everywhere they went, but Sam never noticed them.

He never noticed how broken his brother was. He never was there in the moments where Dean shattered like glass shards, when he used his own blood to glue the pieces back together again. He never saw just how deep and dark his sorrows carved out his soul, how the heavy burdens he carried cracked his bones. He never saw the way his face grew so furrowed by grief, by loss. He lost everything he ever owned, ever loved, but he never seemed to know how to hold onto things tightly enough.

He didn't know his brother wanted out this bad.

Castiel picks the note from the ground, slipping it into his coat pocket before turning to Sam again. With another hard glance at him as he cries softly in the corner, he closes the door to the bathroom, so the boy would no longer have to see the bloodied body of his brother that is slumped on the cracked tile, gun still in hand.

* * *

 **Reviews are highly appreciated. Remember I am new to writing Spn stories. If you want more, I will definitely consider writing more, because they are really fun to write.**


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